


Date Night

by noirchime



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mentions of mature content but nothing too extreme, Post-Pacifist Route, Trans Mettaton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noirchime/pseuds/noirchime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans decides to surprise Mettaton with a romantic date- if only his lover weren’t the classiest, most intelligent and most attractive robot the world has ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Night

It wasn’t often that Sans planned a date. Or anything, for that matter. He usually left it to his lover and boyfriend of six months, Mettaton. Speaking of the star, he hadn't heard a word from him all day. Reaching for his phone, he began to type.

hey mettababe. didn’t get to catch up with ya today. how’s it goin'?

Almost immediately, Mettaton responded.

_Sorry darling, I was a little preoccupied today with a new show they'd like me to launch. xoxo_

got anything planned for tonight?

_We’ll be finishing up in a couple of hours. Don’t get lonely without me._

Sans rolled his eyes.

meet me downstairs at 8:30.

_So it’s a date?_

you betcha, babe.

As soon as Sans had set down his phone, he realised how little time he had to get ready- and plan a date!  
_Man, it can’t be that hard… Mettaton always does this stuff…_ he thought, desperately going over date ideas in his mind.  
How did someone like him end up with Mettaton? He still had a hard time comprehending the fact that he was dating the star of the Underground. He knew it would be extremely difficult to plan their date. Mettaton really did have excellent taste in almost everything, from things as trivial as shoes to every aspect of his lifestyle. Sans knew that just a fancy location wouldn’t please his lover, as Mettaton had become well accustomed to the liberties of stardom and all it had to offer. He needed to plan a date from the heart (or his lack of one).

  
Once Sans had gotten ready (choosing to wear only his regular jacket and shorts, naturally) he headed to Mettaton’s hotel. Getting in was easy, as the management had come to know him, and were probably even paid off to refrain from spreading word of his and Mettaton’s relationship. Sans couldn’t have counted the number of times he and his boyfriend had come stumbling back into the building in the early hours of the morning.

  
After about a quarter of an hour of waiting (Sans knew that Mettaton took eons to plan his outfit) he began to grow concerned, but instead of heading up, he texted Mettaton once again.

 

when are you gonna be ready?

_Sorry, Sans-darling, getting ready. I’ll be down in a few xx_

 

With a small grin, Sans left the lobby of the hotel and headed for its arcade.

  
He had been planning to take Mettaton somewhere else- somewhere classy, but as he often said, a little variety never hurt anyone.

  
Peering into the doorframe of the arcade, he saw that the lights were still dim, and hoped that no-one would be around to ruin their date.

  
After an additional few minutes of waiting around, Sans decided to check out the multitude of gaming consoles and machines in the room. The lights may have been off, but the games were up and running. A large console in the far back corner caught Sans’ attention. Themed pink and blue, two large mats connected to the main screen indicated that it was some form of dance game. Remembering that Mettaton had always loved dance, Sans shrugged. It would be a good way to kill time. He slipped a quarter into the coin insert and began to play.

  
Selecting ‘easy’ mode, he attempted to keep in time, but found himself falling over his own feet as he tried to copy the patterns on the screen.  
“Damn it…” he mumbled, hitting himself in the face for the second time.  
Little did he know, a tall figure had moved into the doorway and was watching his every move.

As Sans finished the song, he collapsed on the floor, face beaded with sweat. He never was one for physical activity. When he climbed to his feet, melodious laughter sounded from behind him, and Sans flushed blue.

  
“Metta..?” he called cautiously, slowly turning around.  
Still laughing, Mettaton put his hands on his hips. He was wearing what seemed to be a custom-designed jacket and outfit, making Sans feel as if he was underdressed.  
“Sans the skeleton. First you go off telling me about this surprise date, and then you treat me to one in the arcade of my own fucking hotel?”  
Sans shifted nervously, his gaze averting Mettaton’s own.  
“I guess you could say it was a boneheaded decision.”

  
Mettaton sighed and scooped Sans up in his arms, embracing his lover in a playful hug. Suddenly, Mettaton stopped mid-spin, sending Sans lurching into Mettaton’s chest.  
“Mettaton!” he protested, blushing.

  
The robot in question just looked down at him rather pitifully, and gave him a weak smile.  
“Oh, honey… is this your score?” he asked, pointing to the still-displayed results of Sans’ attempt at the dance game.

  
As Mettaton set him down, Sans exhaled, preparing for the worst.  
“So I can’t dance. Big deal.”  
“We have got to teach you,” Mettaton responded, grabbing Sans by the arm.  
“What?” Sans chuckled, laughing as Mettaton dragged him along.  
“Here, watch me.” Mettaton instructed, his voice soft.

  
As his date stepped up to the dance mat, Sans began to feel his face heat up.  
Before the skeleton had a chance to object, Mettaton selected the ‘insane’ difficulty and stood in anticipation of the music.

His movements were flawless; every step he took in perfect time with the music. Robotic reflexes- go figure. But Sans found his mind (and eyes) wandering to places it shouldn’t have. Mettaton, whose back was to Sans, gave the skeleton in question a good view of... everything. Sans went bright blue as he realised that Mettaton had finished the song, and was now smirking down at him.

“Enjoying the view?”  
“...Mettaton, I think I better start on easy.”  
Mettaton just laughed knowingly, and extended a tubular arm for Sans to grab onto.  
“Shall we?”

Sans took his lover’s hand with a timid smile, and was immediately dragged onto the mat.

  
They began to dance, Mettaton gracefully keeping beat as Sans completely depended on his movements. While Sans consistently stepped on his own feet and turned in the wrong direction, Mettaton just laughed and corrected him. Towards the end of the song, Mettaton swooped down in an elegant crescendo, his face so close to Sans’ own that their lips very nearly touched. In one brazen moment of confidence, Sans leant upwards and pecked Mettaton on the lips. Now blushing furiously, Mettaton deepened the kiss, and lifted Sans into the air in an adoring embrace.

  
When he set Sans back down on the ground, the shorter gave Mettaton a rare smile, and rubbed the back of his neck timidly.

  
“Come on, Sansy. Show me what you’ve got,” Mettaton prompted, ushering him towards the dance mat. He inserted the coins and pressed ‘easy’ before Sans could protest.

  
With a sigh, Sans stepped onto the mat, and began moving along with the directions on the screen. Throughout the song, Sans stumbled a little, and turned the wrong way a few times. However, when he finished, he looked up to see the adoring face of his boyfriend.

  
“Oh, darling, I’m so proud of you!” Mettaton cooed, planting a kiss on Sans’ skull. Looking past Mettaton, Sans spotted a second mat, still hooked up to the machine. At almost the same time, Mettaton turned and saw where he was gazing.

  
“You’re on, shorty.”

  
The robot swaggered onto the mat with utmost confidence in his abilities, and much to Sans’ relief selected ‘easy’.  
Once again, Sans struggled through the song, while Mettaton effortlessly timed his movements, even adding in a little of his own flair to the dance. It was not until the song had very nearly finished that Sans found a way to bend the rules. He snaked a bony arm towards Mettaton, and in one libidinous movement slapped his rear.

  
“DARLING!?” Mettaton gasped, voice full of static. He found himself blushing a deep shade of magenta as he attempted to continue the song. He glanced to his right, and with a small gasp realised that Sans had completely abandoned the contest and was now staring at him hungrily. When he finished the song, still blushing madly, Mettaton looked over at Sans, and saw him giggling.

  
“Oh man, who knew someone like you would be so flustered when all I did was touch your ass,” Sans laughed. Mettaton glared at him.  
“Honey, you groped me in the middle of my song,” he replied, dramaticising every word.  
Sans rolled his eyes and smirked at his robot lover.  
“I know you liked it, pretty boy.” Mettaton only huffed.

  
“My darling, should I treat you to one last dance?” Mettaton offered, giving Sans one of his rare smiles. His expression was for once completely unrehearsed, and his face gave away his adoration for the tiny skeleton he then held out an arm for.

  
“One last dance.” Sans agreed, taking Mettaton’s arm as they selected a song.  
“Ooh, you’ll like this.” Mettaton mused, selecting a mellow, bare, romantic vocal number.

  
Abandoning the dance mats, the pair began to dance, the faint glow of the arcade games illuminating their faces. The soft light of the room reflected the shine of Mettaton’s body, as well as the glow in both of their eyes.

  
Laughing and spinning like they didn’t have a care in the world, Mettaton and Sans began to find rhythm to the song, their fingers intertwined as they twirled. The pink and blue of the two dance mats became blurs in the distance as the pair came together for the ending verse, the blue of Sans’ jacket and the pink of Mettaton’s own complimenting each other seemingly perfectly. Sans, who had been following Mettaton’s lead for the entire duration of the song, suddenly broke free and stood atop a nearby console, leaning downwards to embrace Mettaton. Their lips met as the final verse rang out, Mettaton’s arms wrapped around Sans’ small frame.

_Are you saving me?_

The next morning, Sans woke up in the most luxurious bed he’d seen in years, the owner of which’s arm curled around him lovingly. All his clothes aside from a t-shirt were strewn across the floor beside the bed, and Mettaton’s own detachable shoulder blades as well as his clothes had been tossed aside carelessly.

  
With an uncharacteristic start, Sans realised that his face was hardly an inch away from Mettaton’s, and that he could feel his lover’s soft breathing on his face. Now smiling, he leaned in, and laid his head on Mettaton’s shoulder. No sooner had he leant down did he hear the boot-up noise from Mettaton, and the star’s eyes fluttered open. When he finally booted up, Mettaton pounced on Sans, pinning him to the bed. He then kissed him deeply, closing his eyes in bliss. As he broke apart from Sans, he smiled down at him, brushing a strand of dark synthetic hair from his own face.

  
“Sans, my darling! Last night was amazing. And I don’t just mean what happened here.” He laughed, gesturing to the bed.  
“I really have to start letting you plan dates more often,” he added, sitting up. Sans just gave him a bashful grin and ran a hand down Mettaton’s back.

  
“Heh. Thanks, babe, but I’d honestly rather leave it to you.”

  
Reaching for his phone, which lay on the bedside table, Mettaton opened the camera.  
“Sans, get over here. I’m sending this to Alphys.” He prompted, holding up the phone.  
Sans leant over, and slung a bony arm around Mettaton’s neck as he smiled into the camera. It was only after he re-read the caption Mettaton had typed out that he realised what was on his shirt.

  
The words ‘METTA’S BITCH’ in all capitals had been scribbled in black marker onto his shirt, quite obviously the work of Mettaton himself. Noticing that Sans had seen it, Mettaton burst into laughter.

  
“Oh my god, Sans. I did that over half an hour ago. Finally, you noticed. And it’s too late, I just sent this to Alphys.” He explained, hooking a leg around Sans’ neck. Sans sighed inwardly.  
“If Papyrus sees this he’s gonna blow a fuse.”  
Mettaton just smirked.  
“Well, it can remain our little secret, Sansy-darling.” He cooed, pulling Sans closer.  
“Oh yeah. And you don’t think Alphys is gonna have any questions if you captioned that ‘skelebabe’?” Sans huffed, leaning into Mettaton.  
Mettaton only laughed a low, echoey, robotic laugh.

  
“Oh, she’s known for quite a while honey.”  
Sans groaned, but remained with his side pressed against Mettaton.  
“Hey babe?”  
“Mm?”  
“I love you a Metta-TON.”

**Author's Note:**

> I known Sans doesn't exactly have lips. He does have a mouth/tongue, otherwise how could he drink from a straw?  
> There was originally a lot of italics going on. The texting and certain phrases make more sense that way.
> 
> They are probably dancing to Panic! At The Disco.
> 
> Sans' First Attempt: Northern Downpour  
> Mettaton's Insane Mode: Victorious  
> Easy Mode (together): Undecided  
> Sans' Second Attempt: The Calendar  
> Dance-off: Miss Jackson  
> Last Dance: Sarah Smiles
> 
> Edit: I would really appreciate comments/constructive criticism, as this is one of my first works posted on here.


End file.
